


Scotty: Not that Bright

by almaruth



Series: Other ways it could have gone [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaruth/pseuds/almaruth
Summary: Stiles is willing to overlook a lot when it comes to his best friend, but this? No. He's not lying to his dad.
Series: Other ways it could have gone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/698178
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Scotty: Not that Bright

Stiles jumped when Scott banged into his house, looking like he for one had gotten a good night’s sleep. He didn’t look like he was in pain, or actually like anything had gone terribly wrong the night before. Stiles had lain in bed for a long time, unable to sleep, guilty over bringing Scotty into the woods, worrying about the half-body they’d found, wondering if his dad had figured out what he’d done. He was so puzzled by Scott’s ability to sleep easily after their night that he almost missed what he said.

Stiles stared at Scott, mind working furiously. “The bite is gone?!” he hissed, trying not to let Scott know how freaked out he was.

Scott nodded, looking more puppy-like than usual. “Yeah,” he said, grinning a bit, “It must not have been as bad as we thought.” “Uh-huh,” said Stiles, not showing his incredulity.

Something was clearly wrong – Stiles had seen the bite, maybe more clearly than Scott had. If it was gone, something else was going on. “Anything else weird?”

Scott shook his head slowly. “Everything smells more, but that’s it.”

Stiles raised a brow incredulously. “Smells more? C’mon Scotty, give me more to work with.”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking bemused. “I don’t know, Stiles. It just seems more. I can’t really describe it.”

Stiles sighed. He loved Scott, he really did, but his bestie was not the brightest bulb. “Does everything smell more concentrated? Or are you smelling things you aren’t used to smelling?”

Scott sniffed, which Stiles suddenly realized he’d been doing all along. “The second one, I think. But also the first. Like, dude, I know what your deodorant smells like, but today it’s like you put on way more than usual.”

“Huh. I don’t know, man. Give me a few days to do some internet research.” Stiles wriggled his fingers at Scott, trying not to give away the fact that he was freaking out internally. Maybe Scott hadn’t noticed, but the slight wheeze Stiles had long associated with Scott and his summer allergies was gone. Scott was barely breathing hard at all, despite the bike over to Stiles’ house.

Scott grinned at him. “You’ll figure it out. And maybe the smell thing will go away.”

Stiles grinned back, Scott’s smile infectious, even though he wasn’t nearly as sanguine as Scott about what was going on. They settled back into the couch as Stiles turned the TV on. Maybe video games would settle his mind, but Stiles thought it would only distract him for a while. Whatever was going on with Scott was not okay, and Stiles wasn’t about to let it go on much longer without attempting to fix it.

After several hours of some of the worst gaming Stiles had done, Scott went home to have dinner with his mom. Stiles rattled around in his kitchen, making dinner for him and his dad. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing; he was turning the night before over in his head, trying to piece the evidence into a whole.

He startled when a hand appeared at his side, turning the stove off. His dad stood there, chuckling slightly. “I appreciate dinner more when you haven’t scorched it,” he said, smiling.

Stiles smiled ruefully. “Thanks, Dad. How was work?”

His dad raised a brow, “How was work, he says. Anything you want to tell me about last night before I tell you about work?”

Stiles winced. “Right. Um. Can we eat and talk?” Sheriff Stilinski pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, okay, I did something stupid and dragged Scott along but can we eat and talk, and you can yell at me after dinner?”

Dad rolled his eyes briefly, looking pained. “Sometimes I think the two of you are more trouble than the rest of Beacon Hills combined. Except at least you never mean to be trouble. You just don’t think things through.”

Stiles coughed, feeling that comment strike home harder than dad had probably meant it to. He plated up dinner and set it on the table, while his dad grabbed the silverware and napkins. Stiles poured them each a glass of water, and then hovered over the cabinet with the whiskey.

“Kid,” his dad said, gently, “if I need the whiskey I can get it for myself.”


End file.
